I once got so pissed that upon stumbling home and getting into my bed I realised that I felt like I would vomit. Like real soon. In my drunken opinion, I had decided that vomiting into the toilet would be noisy and thus embarrassing if my parents woke up to that so, with my bed being under a window, I just rolled over, opened the window and vomited directly out into the back garden from my first floor bedroom.

This would have been fine and I would have happily let the rain wash away my vomit, but that wasn't what I was concerned about. What I was concerned about was the fact that the force of my vomiting also made me shit myself simultaneously. This caused my dog to go into panic mode (who up until now had been happily sleeping in his own bed) and it also made quite a mess on my sheets and on my pyjamas.

So what do I do? I go downstairs fetch a bin bag and take all the sheets off and my soiled pyjamas and chuck them in the bag. I then decided to go and throw the bag of shit stained sheets/clothing into the bins in the back garden. Yes the back garden I had just vomited into. So I throw away my shit-sheets and look at the mess I've created on the five-piece outdoor dining set. Stringy bits of vomit all over the place, not nice.

Now it was at this point I also realised it wasn't raining as I had previously thought. This meant that I had to fill up the watering can - yes the watering can, and splash it over the table in the middle of the night, in order to rid the dining set from my vomit. I mean it worked but it took a good hour.

SOMEHOW my parents still hadn't awoken during all this which was quite impressive really. But thinking 'job well done', I went back in the house, up the stairs and into my bedroom where I remade my bed with some fresh sheets and promptly fell asleep.

THE STORY ISN'T OVER. Come morning time my mum walks in my room and says 'Those sheets are a different colour to the sheets you had on yesterday.. what happened?' as innocently as grumbled back 'I don't know what you're talking about'. She then goes and walks the dog or some shit but for some reason I decided to go out and take the shitty sheets out of the bin and chuck them in the washing machine with an extra dose of washing detergent. Should work right?

No. My mum asked me why there were sheets in the washing machine and I just spilt the truth. Fucking nightmare. Could have been worse though, I could of clogged the outdoor drain with vomit and my dad would have to call an emergency plumber to fix it. Oh wait that did happen.

tl;dr: Lots of cider led to an upset stomach, vomit and shit everywhere, spent the night 'clearing up' only for it all to turn out to be a massive waste of time.